


A Matter of Trust

by Fire_Sign



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: episode insert, flashfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2020-01-12 18:30:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18452204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fire_Sign/pseuds/Fire_Sign
Summary: Jack contemplates the photographic plates. (A 1x03 mid-episode insert for the flashfic challenge.)





	A Matter of Trust

**Author's Note:**

> So I fecking DID IT AGAIN, choosing my own damn title and then realising it after my heart wedded itself to an idea. Maybe the next sprint will be the one I do properly.

Jack contemplated the photographic plates before him; it would be the work of a moment to lose them. There was no record in his reports, no officer aware of events that would not follow his lead. Charlie Freeman came from money--any rumours that lingered would be excused by bribery. It was a small price to pay for doing the right thing.

But there was a… complication, in the form of Miss Phryne Fisher.

He knew he shouldn’t like her. She was smart, yes, and delightfully principled. As well as resourceful, stubborn, and possessing a sense of justice he suspected was greatly in line with his own. It was why he had not hesitated to speak on her behalf to Welfare, certain that young Jane Ross would thrive beneath the care of such a woman. But that didn’t mean he should  _ like  _ her. And he certainly had no reason to trust her.

And even more certainly had no reason to trust her with something like this.

He had looked the other way many times in his career. For men like Charlie, for women who were doing the best they could, for children who hadn’t had a chance. It was a risk, it was always a risk, but it was a risk he’d long ago calculated. A risk he was willing to take.

Phryne Fisher added a whole new slew of variables to the equation. 

She had known of Charlie’s proclivities, seemed to carry no judgment for them; he didn’t doubt she would approve of his actions. But she could also use them, on him or against him. She could destroy his career or his integrity if she knew. He had no reason to trust her. He barely _knew_ her, for Christ’s sake. He did this alone. He always did this alone.

A file on his desk caught his eye and he sighed, knowing this argument had been pretense for his own peace of mind. Despite his better judgment, he knew full well what he’d do. Picking up the telephone, he placed a call to a number that was already becoming far too familiar. She answered it herself, her vivacity palpable even through the wires. 

“Miss Fisher,” he said, finding himself smiling in response. “Are you free this evening? I could use your assistance on a… delicate matter.”


End file.
